


there, there, darling

by Oshii



Series: I Have That Effect on Women ;) Lucifer H/C Prompt Fills [17]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Comforting Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Deckerstar - Freeform, Established Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, F/M, Food Poisoning, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Hurt/Comfort, POV Chloe, Sick Chloe Decker, Soft Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:55:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25023532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oshii/pseuds/Oshii
Summary: Sick!Chloe and caregiver!Lucifer. A little role reversal! Deckerstar, H/C, sweet and fluffy and a little gross.Chloe gets food poisoning and Lucifer tends to her, aka, the Bible never mentioned Satan would hold your hair back while you threw up bad sushi at 3 in the morning.
Relationships: Chloe Decker & Lucifer Morningstar
Series: I Have That Effect on Women ;) Lucifer H/C Prompt Fills [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1505822
Comments: 5
Kudos: 67





	there, there, darling

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted June 28, 2020.
> 
> Link: https://oshii.tumblr.com/post/622130456585994240/there-there-darling-deckerstar-sickchloe
> 
> Disclaimer: I made up Mon Sushi for this drabble; any similarities to actual names or places of current or past operation is unintentional. No copyright infringement intended.

It was a Wednesday, sometime in the dark wee hours of the very early morning – 3:38 AM, exactly, according to the glowing digital numbers on Chloe’s nightstand alarm clock – and deep in the blackness of blissful sleep, something swirling and sinister began to unfurl, gooey tentacles writhing in her belly and coiling through the fluid-filled tubes in her head, the ones for balance.

Brow furrowing as her body began the undue process of premature and unwelcome waking, Chloe moaned in displeasure as her restless fever-dream dissolved into disorienting reality. She was dizzy, and thirsty, and nauseous – _God_ , what time was it, her eyes weren’t even open yet, oh God, that ceviche from Mon Sushi for dinner was _not_ sitting well, nope, not at all.

Her eyes did crack open, blearily, heart pounding and head spinning, to check the clock, and she moaned again as another surge of nausea gripped her stomach and tightened her throat. Shivers of awful anticipation wracked her frame, and goosebumps prickled on her arms, and she knew with resigned futility that wrestling with herself wasn’t gonna happen; her body was going to win tonight. 

Beside her, in bed, Lucifer shifted and mumbled in his own slumbering state – _yes, Lucifer, god, can’t believe we did that, ‘s about time, oh God I’m gonna hurl—_

Bare feet swung over the mattress, covers flung back, and Chloe – clad in only a long-sleeved buttoned nightshirt and panties – stumbled blindly across the dark bedroom, careened through the threshold of the doorway, and sprinted down the hall to the bathroom, barely sliding into home in time to lift the lid and vomit up a luxurious sushi dinner for two in a heaving, splashing wave. She barely had time to catch her breath before another wave came up, burning her throat and scorching her nose on the way out, dripping disgustingly into the toilet water below. Her eyes swam with tears, running down her cheeks, and shakily, she tried to push her loose hair over her shoulder, unable to complete the task as her whole torso clenched with another awful heave.

_Oh God, oh god, never ever ever eating from there again, oh god don’t THINK about sushi—_

“Chloe?”

…oh, _Lucifer_. The last thing she wanted was for him to witness her like this. It was so messy and unladylike; plus, it was still weird (but undeniably, overwhelmingly wonderful as well) to hear him call her _Chloe_ rather than _Detective_.

Quickly, she glanced up through streaming tears and running nose and bedraggled bed-hair. “I’m…” a quiet dry-heave cut her off, and she continued with a gasp, “…I’m all right. “

Lucifer – his own hair uncharacteristically and adorably messy – sighed with soft exasperation. “Sure you are. Healthy as a dead horse, darling.”

Humiliation burned beneath the fading nausea, and Chloe lowered her forehead onto the rim of the toilet bowl, succumbing to exhausted defeat. Then, she heard the muffled grunt of effort as Lucifer lowered himself to sit behind her – spooning her with his legs, the Devil himself, yes – and she felt his fingers carding through her hair, gently pulling it back from her shoulders.

“There we are,” he soothed, cupping one impossibly cool palm around the exposed nape of her neck. “Nothing like a round of digestive pyrotechnics to start the day right, eh?”

“Lucifer,” she croaked, and lurched forward as her stomach clenched with a thin, straining heave. It was mostly bile, and it _hurt_ to bring up, and Lucifer dropped any attempts at weak levity to hold her with gentle strength against her body’s violence; he rubbed gentle circles into her back, kept her hair held safely away from the hot zone, and murmured soothing things, coaching her. _There, there, love, get it all out…better out than in, darling…there you are, steady on…_

Dimly, through the echoing strains of her own sickness, Chloe realized that when she first met Lucifer – hell, throughout the past three years having him as her partner – that she never would have imagined them in this scenario, not in a million years, no matter what ended up transpiring. As if reading her mind (shit…maybe he _could_ ), Lucifer spoke up, still tenderly rubbing her back.

“I’ve seen far worse, you know,” he reminded her with gentle wryness. “Afraid it’ll take more than some shouting at Ralph and Huey to scare me away.”

Suddenly - as she actually managed to huff a little laugh at his conviction – Chloe realized he was right, and her earlier reservations seemed stupid in retrospect. It probably would take a _lot_ more than food poisoning to send the Devil running, and God, she wanted him here after all, because his cool hand felt good cupped against her burning cheek, and the little kiss he planted on the crown of her hair was more tender than the sweetest gifts from any mortal boy.

“I don’t deserve you,” she mumbled, reaching up to cup her own palm over his hand, making sure it stayed on her hot and clammy face. Sweat moistened her neck and forehead and armpits, prickly and hot and uncomfortable in the trembling aftermath of sickness; but, man, did she feel much better. She hoped it was out of her system and all would be well, so long as she never stepped foot near Mon Sushi again.

Lucifer smiled, and it was entirely lacking in guile, all tender purity. “You deserve far more than I could ever give,” he murmured, nearly a whisper, brushing her ear. “And I will give you everything I have in the meantime.”

Chloe closed her eyes, humming with contentment now that the queasiness had abated, so _so_ glad that it was over and her stomach had settled, and beyond belief at how unbelievably lucky she was to have _him_. “You don’t owe me anything. I love you. I love you so much that I won’t ask for a kiss. Just maybe some privacy so I can scrub this vomit out of my hair.”

It was Lucifer’s turn to chuckle. “As you wish, darling.”


End file.
